


I Still Believe

by pinkmaven



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Delusions, F/M, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:23:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkmaven/pseuds/pinkmaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was so taken with the idea of loving Sansa and having his Tully girl at last he didn’t realize it was just a unreal hallucination until the price for believing in it became too high. The best revenge Sansa had for Littlefinger was living well by repeating history before his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Stark Contrast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winter_is_here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_is_here/gifts).



Petyr sat in the corner of the great hall watching them intently. His tully girl Cat, and his arch nemesis Brandon. Laughing and carrying on right before him as if he was nothing more than a shadow on the wall. He had to say something, he needed Cat to love him and not that Stark brute. Petyr marched towards the two lovers in a huff, but almost doubled over when he realized that he’d guzzled down one too many ales, because It was Jon and Sansa, seven hells they couldn’t look anymore like them if they tried, something needed to be done about this at once. The urge to touch her fiery hair was insatiable. Before Petyr knew it his fingers had latched on to a lock of her hair, and the laughter stopped abruptly.

"Lord Baelish! What in the seven hells are you doing?!" His tully angel wailed. 

"I'm so...sorry cat, I'm not sure what came over me..." Petyr bowed and took a step back cautiously.

"Aye, I observed you, observing us and depleting the ale supply of Winterfell in the process," Jon smirked in that condescending Brandon Stark way.

"And not to knock the beauty of lady Catelyn, but my wife's countenance is unmistakable."

"My apologies your grace, I will cut back on my drinking from now on, and i'm sorry for frightening you my queen." He lowered his head in shame, and made his way to the courtyard.

This was how his days were now spent ever since that half targaryen bastard wedded his last chance at love. His ambitions for the iron throne were on the back burner, while he drank like a fish and his hate for the dark haired half of the couple grew. Petyr felt utterly betrayed by the girl he wanted to give the world to. Facing rejection again, had made him experience regression of epic proportions. The fact of the matter was that he now had a deep dark secret that he was using drink to conceal. The hallucinations were becoming exceedingly worse, to the point where the king and queen's mere presence would send shivers down his spine.

Two moons had passed and the royal couple had gathered all the Northern lords for a big announcement, he prayed to the gods that it wasn't for the reason he suspected.

The queen was wearing a dress that showed enough flesh to send his heart galloping. When he paraded her around as his niece in the Veil the only skin she'd shown was a slither of bosom. Now that she belonged to...him, she didn't care that parts of her smooth milky back were exposed, and that uncultured husband of hers didn't even bat an eyelid. He needed to show her that Jon Snow was perverse and unworthy of her meekness.

Of course Sansa was far from meek but when it came to her he wore rose colored glasses, unable to see her growth and wisdom flourish before him. In his eyes she would always need him, and since what seemed to be madness was taking hold, he vowed that Cat/Sansa would be his no matter the cost.

There was a strange feeling between the king and queen which he read as tension, and wanted nothing more than to prance around the room with glee. Trouble in paradise he hoped.

All the lords were already seated when he arrived fashionably late. On the tables before them were untouched goblets of freshly brewed ale. That was odd, Wyman Manderly who was the human embodiment of gluttony always cleared his table before anyone else, what was the deal. Petyr began to get nervous, and when he got nervous he drank, a lot. Ignoring numerous warnings from Ser Davos, he kept on swigging ale until his hallucinations were pirouetting before him.

The king stood up and raised his cup in the air.

"My lords, my dear wife and I have brought you here to announce the impending arrival of our little prince or princess," his hand was rubbing her burgeoning stomach, and she smiled form ear to ear.

It brought him back to the moment when that bastard was named king in the north, and she had smiled up at him in a similar way. He should've put a stop to it back then, but overconfidence was always his Achilles heel.

"What wonderful news!" One of them proclaimed, and a chorus of lords were now cheering when it started happening again. The second scene of his Stark nightmare had commenced.

"Nooo!!!" He screamed, bringing the laughter and cheers to a halt.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Wyman boomed.

"Nobody asked you to stick your beak in fatso," Petyr said, angering the lord who was about twice his size. Wyman gasped and was now preparing to charge Petyr when Jon ordered him to stop.

"Lord Baelish, are you displeased by our announcement?" the king was now visibly irritated, but this still didn't bring Petyr out of his trance.

"Ned you bastard! How could you take my sweet, sweet Cat away. When your oaf of a brother was incinerated by Aerys Targaryen in Kings Landing, she was suppose to be mine and you swooped in and stomped on my dream!"

"Lord Baelish, that is enought! Cease him at once!" the queen commanded.

The kings guard had detained him and he was thrown into the dungeons of Winterfell, but he still believed that there was a future for him and his Tully beauty.


	2. Time Melts Into Nothing

Chapter Text

Petyr laid on the cold hard floor of his cell mumbling to himself. Being confined had pushed him over the edge, and he now firmly believed that the king and queen were Ned and Cat.

Thinking of a way to get the woman he loved, and to escape the hell hole that Ned Stark had put him in, he remained in the same spot for days at a time. Ignoring the guards every attempt at getting him to move, Petyr created this vulnerable image of himself, but beneath this was an intense broken man whose desperation knew no bounds.

He would hold Cat in his arms again if it was the last thing he did. He had a plan which had taken a while to piece together, since there were days when he wasn't sure if he was in the Eyrie or Kings Landing.

The opportunity arose when a guard tried to get him to eat. Petyr leapt to his feet and sank his teeth deep into the man's forearm, ripping apart his veins. Blood had spilled everywhere, and he reached across the guards convulsing body to retrieved the keys to his cell.

Getting past the soldiers stationed at every corner of the castle proved to be a task all on its own. Thankfully he knew Winterfell very well, all thanks to his constant monitoring of Cat either combing her hair, or nursing a baby. He moved stealthily around every corner until he was able to evade all surveillance undetected.

Resting his ear at her door, Petyr could hear Cat's sweet buttery voice humming an old song, which gave him flashbacks of their childhood. Knowing that he was pressed for time, he burst open the door, and pressed his dirt covered hand tightly on Sansa's lips. Her muffled words reverberating on his palm.

Binding a piece of cloth around her mouth her whispered,"Shhh my darling Cat,everything will be ok, I'm taking you somewhere safe away from that pea brained husband of yours. We'll finally be together and live the life I...we always wanted."Kissing her cloth covered lips, he tied ropes around her wrists which she unsuccessfully tried to wriggle out of, and carried her into the crypts.

He could hear soldiers calling out for their queen, and his fingers began to pull at his hair. He had placed Sansa in a corner and was now rocking back and forth ranting and raving.

"No she's MY queen! Cat, Cat, don't listen to them you're mine."

Sansa realized that there was no reasoning with this man, and the only way she'd get out of this situation would be to play along with his delusions. Propping her body up, she looked over at him and started humming a song that he immediately started singing along to.

"The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun, and her kisses were warmer than spring. But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel, and its kiss was a terrible thing. The Dornishman's wife would sing as a peach."

Reaching over, he untied the cloth which was fastened around the lower half of her face. Together, under the glow of the illuminated statues they sang the Dornishman's wife.

"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done, the Dornishman's taken my life, But what does it matter, for all men must die, and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife, I have, I've tasted the Dornishman's wife."

"Oh Cat, do you remember when we were no taller than two bales of hay, and you helped me mend my scraped knee after we decided to explore this very place." His glazed over eyes searched hers.

"Ye..yes..I remember."

"My beautiful girl, why don't you let me warm your lips with mine," Petyr didn't give her the opportunity to respond and kissed Sansa long and hard.

She was completely repulsed by this and rubbed her lips raw against her cloak.

"My sweet...was my kiss unsatisfactory?" he said in an agitated tone.

"No...I just feel slightly nauseous. After all I am with child...speaking of, i'm beginning to get quite peckish."

"Anything you want my dear you just have to promise to stay put."

"I will...m..my..love," the words felt bitter on her tongue.

He waited until the sound of voices died down to crawl out of the deep crevice he had fitted both of them into. As soon as he was out she followed, covering her stomach with one arm to protect her baby, she finally reached the entrance after what seemed like an hour where she screamed for help.

Luckily a guard was passing by and quickly took hold of the queen ending her capture.

"Notify the king that I've been found, I have something to take care of," Sansa headed for the kitchen where she knew he'd be, and hatched a plan to get Petyr Baelish back.


	3. The Storm Is Over

Scrapping her first plan entirely, Sansa instead hatched another. A plan that would put an end to all this madness at once.

Sansa snuck into her husband's study and turned the room over, frantically in search of the cloak she had sewn him at the wall. Ever since he came back from the other side Jon had nightmares, so Sansa would secretly slip him a bit of nightshade to calm the night terrors. Now she needed it more than ever, but the bloody thing was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly ghost appeared shaking a layer of snow off his coat, "where have you been? you naughty wolf," Sansa implored. Ignoring the queen he pounced on the bed and proceeded to doze off. "No ghost get off! Jon will be furious!" The startled direwolf lept off the bed and knocked over the side table spilling its contents onto the floor. Sansa's eyes immediately locked onto the bottle of nightshade she was desperately in need of.

The heavily pregnant queen fastened her husband's cloak around her neck, and with nightshade in hand went to fetch littlefinger in his psychosis induced state. She stood at the entrance of the kitchen, watching him dig around for fruits and anything else he could get his hands on.

"Petyr," the queen said sternly.

"Cat! what are you doing out here in the open where they can hurt you?!"

"Go back! I can't have Ned taking you and our child away my sweet."

While he ranted at her in hushed tones that sent chills down her spine, Sansa had snuck an apple under her cloak.

"That's why I made them stick his head on a spike! Don't you see Cat, my sweet Cat, I did it for you!" he paced up and down like a mad man, eyes darting all over the place.

"You did what?" keeping her voice steady, Sansa handed a nightshade coated apple to littlefinger.

"Here, try this. I picked it outside just for you."

"What a beautiful gesture of love. Oh Cat, thank you."

She watched as he scarfed the entire thing down and began to drift off. Littlefinger collapsed onto the floor totally incapacitated. The queen knelt down beside him drawing her dagger, she slit his throat in one swift motion 

Sana Stark was no murderer, but the thing is, Sansa Stark was dead. She had taken on so many identities sometimes it was hard for her to remember who that person was. This steel made woman watched as the blood pooled around Petyr's body, yet the weakened man still tried to reach out to a ghost.

The queen whispered to his dying body, "once upon a time you were like a savior to me, how unfortunate that it's come to this."

"Remember what you said to me before I was sold like cattle to the Boltons?" "There's no justice in this world unless we make it, goodbye Petyr." He seemed to wilt away before her eyes. Sensing someone else's presence, Sansa turned to see a Jon's eyes transfixed on the scene before him.

The king ran towards his wife and cradled her in his arms, "my love we've turned Winterfell over looking for you!, thank the gods you're safe." Immediately, a swarm of guards came in and cleaned up what was left of littlefinger. The queen was ushered to her chambers, where she prepared for the impending arrival of her baby.

At the break of dawn, labor pains had commenced and the atmosphere of Winterfell was one of extreme tension, yet there was an underlying excitement in the air. Handmaid's were sewing little bonnets, and a council was in deep discussion about the heir to the throne coming into this world healthy

As the sun burned a deep burnt orange, Sansa began to push, she pushed so hard the the maesters urged the queen to slow down, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. King Jon was pacing the halls ready to burst in any moment. Everyone was afraid that the queen wouldn't make it because of the amount of blood she was losing. Finally, with one last push and a hair raising shriek, a beautiful dark haired boy was born.

He was placed on her chest and mother and child instantly bonded. Alas Sansa had a family of her own, and though it could never replace the wonderful family she grew up in, she felt like her life was complete. The grey eyed babe looked up at her with all the wonder in the world. King Jon peppered her with kisses, unable to quell his excitement.

"Sansa, what should we name him?" Jon inquired.

"The one person who was always there for both of us, Ned of course," she replied.

"Eddard Benjen Targaryen, it has a nice ring to it." He said planting a kiss on the newborn's forehead.

Though the name was an obvious choice, Sansa felt like what it represented meant more than the innocent little baby she held in her arms could possibly know. All she knew is that she'd raise a son as honest, loving, brave, and kind as her father.

For a long time her world seemed fractured, overcoming endless horrors and still living to tell the tale. Now at long last she's free to truly life life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away for a long time, but i'm back and excited to share the conclusion of my favorite story I've written. I hope you enjoyed it! xx


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